Looking Back
by katbybee
Summary: At some point, everyone spends time looking back on their life. Especially on those days that are designed to make us reflect...UUD


LOOKING BACK

Honolulu, Hawaii

April 1985

"There's nothing more I can do. I'm sorry."

No matter how many times I have said this over the course of my career, those words make me angry and bitter every time. I have been a doctor for a long time….and I have had to say those words far more often than I ever intended. I find myself remembering some of the people I have said it about…

As I sit here at my kitchen table, a cup of coffee in my hand, watching the sunrise through the window, I find myself thinking… remembering. My mood is melancholy as I finish the strong black coffee and stroll out onto my lanai. Soon, I must start getting ready. And I really don't want to. I wish today was like any other normal day. If it were, I would be hurrying through breakfast and making my way to the hospital.

Not today. Starting today, and for the rest of my life, I have all the time in the world. Friends have told me I should travel. I've seen more in my lifetime than I wanted to, thanks. I watch the palm trees swaying in the sweet tropical breeze. I love my adopted city. I love everything about it…. well, nearly everything. The crime rate is rising, and that has made my job more difficult recently. But, not any more.

Why is it I have such a hard time remembering all the good outcomes? All I can think of as I sit here and watch the waves endlessly rolling ashore is how many times I have lost the battle to keep someone alive. I remember them all. And it still hurts. I stand and sigh as my telephone rings. I glance at my watch as I head to answer it. I smile to myself. Clockwork. That is one thing about the military you can just about count on….it does tend to make one a creature of habit.

I reach for the phone. "Good morning, Jesse" I greet my caller before he has a chance to even say hello. He chuckles. "I really am that bad, then?"

We share a brief laugh, and his tone becomes serious. I can tell he senses my mood. "Are you alright, Dad?"

I sigh, not sure how to answer. Trained military cop that he is, he will know if I attempt to spin a story. Unlike many of the men I have known, I am not a particularly good liar. Of course, the fact that a few of those men were exceptionally good liars helped save a lot of lives. Including my own, more than once. "No, Jess. I am not okay. I never wanted this day to come. And I am feeling pretty lost right now."

I could tell Jesse was nodding in sympathy. "I know, Dad, but it had to happen eventually. I wish I could be there, but I'm tied up on a case. I had hoped to be able to wrap it up and fly out so I could be there, but things just didn't work out."

"I understand, Jess, believe me. It's okay. Besides, you have some furlough time coming. Maybe we can plan for you to come over in a few months. We can charter a fishing trip. It's been a long time since we've done that."

"I'd like that. Listen, I hate to cut this short, but I have got to get back to work."

We said good-bye, and hung up. I checked my coffee. It was cold and I grimaced. I debated on a second cup, and decided I did not need that distraction standing in front of a crowd. The last thing I needed would be needing to use the head while up on that dais. Instead, I headed into my bedroom to check over my dress uniform. It hung on the door, waiting for me.

I brushed it carefully, and reached for the leather case that sat on my dresser. I reached in and pulled out the three medals that lay there. Although all the ribbons were already in place, I did not normally wear the medals themselves. I briefly touched them each in turn, and let myself remember. I did not feel particularly brave, or worthy…. I was doing my job, just like everyone else had. But that's always the way, I think. That's how we all look at it.

I look down at my Corfams. They're in perfect condition, as usual. I smile, as I remember the ragged combat boots I had worn for so long, way back when. I look at my old beat-up fatigue jacket. How many lives had I touched wearing that jacket, back when I did all the things I should never have been doing? Back when I officially wasn't even a doctor. Faces float through my mind…men I have lost touch with, men who were still close friends, others who were strangers…. a lot of lives, a lot of good men…and even a few women, though that wasn't so common back then.

I finish getting my uniform ready, and my thoughts loop back to those I had not been able to save. The ones I fought for, and lost. Every doctor will tell you he carries a bit of the soul of a patient he loses. I can tell you, it's true. And then the phone rang one more time. Perplexed, I went back into the living room to answer it. I was not expecting any more calls before I had to leave. And the voice on the phone made me smile, the way it always had…. even though I always pretended to be gruff and short with him. I would never tell him how much he had helped me get through those hard days. It wasn't that he did anything spectacular. It was simply that he was—him. And I know anyone who's ever met him would understand exactly what I meant.

"Hello, Andrew. How are you?"

"I'm good. Are you ready for this?"

I sigh. Am I ready? Yes…and no. I would miss the routine. I would miss my patients. But it's time. "Yes. Andrew. I'm ready. Are you in town?"

I could hear the smile in his voice. "Yep! Managed to combine business with pleasure and finagle a few days out of Washington!"

"You'll be there then?"

"You bet, boy, I wouldn't miss it!"

I glance at my watch again. It was getting late. "I'd better go. I'll see you there. Maybe we can have a beer later."

There was an odd tone to his voice when he answered. "Maybe so. See you in a bit." We disconnected, and I'm left with the feeling that I've missed something. My uniform is ready, and so I dress and get ready to leave the house. My house…. our house. I let myself wander down that path for only a moment, as I move to the portrait above the roll-top desk in my bedroom. I touch her face, and wish for the hundredth time that she had lived to see this day. The words float through my head again, though this time they were not my own. I had been on the receiving end that time… "There's nothing more I can do. I'm sorry."

I sigh and place my uniform cover on my head, and head out the door, just as the car pulls up. The driver, a very young corporal, in Class A uniform, opens the door for me, and we head to Tripler Army Hospital. My hospital…. for a few more hours anyway. I sit back, remembering. I suppose that is what retirement ceremonies are for. To remember. As if I could ever forget. I am determined not to let the day get to me. It's been a good run, and I'm grateful for it. I would never tell anyone that I sometimes long for the days when I'd been a harried, undersupplied medic with a camp full of men looking to me to cure their ills. I chuckle. _The best of times, the worst of times…_

The driver gets us to Tripler in very short order. Things move quickly after that, and before I am ready, I find myself sitting on the stage of the hospital auditorium, staring out at the crowd. And they stare back at me. My friends, my colleagues and—my breath catches as I recognize the grinning man sitting just to the right of Andrew, on the end of the front row. I can't leap of the stage, though I want to. And Andrew is grinning like an idiot. Because Jesse, my Jesse is there! I realize I have been played. I smile back, and settle in to listen to the speeches as people come forward to bid me farewell. Some are touching, some are funny, all are tinged with a bit of sadness. _I treasure every one of them._

The last one to speak is Andrew. He and I had not exactly been friends back in camp… friendship had come later. But we each held a great respect for each other. He is one of the strongest men I know. I was aware of a lot of what was happening back then, though not all of it. I am honest enough to admit that if it were not for me, Andrew would not be here at all. He knows it too. My mind flitted back to the day I had said the dreaded words to Colonel Hogan. _"There's nothing more I can do. I'm sorry."_

And there wasn't. Andrew was dying, and there was nothing I could do. And yet, he did not die. He pulled through. I have given up trying to figure it out. He managed to survive against all the odds. And I will be forever grateful. Ours might seem an odd friendship. We have little in common, and I am older than he is by nearly 12 years. I see him only rarely, as he lives on the mainland with his wife. But, again, I don't try to explain it.

I realize that because of my woolgathering, I have missed his introduction. I settled back to listen to Lt. Col. Andrew J. Carter's speech. He glances over at me and then looks back out over the crowd. I expect a long-winded speech, because he is still a chatterbox. That has never changed. Instead, he goes straight to the heart of the matter.

"Any of you who know me, know that I would not be here if it weren't for this man." He turns and looks me in the eye. "Thank you, Joe."

He leaves the stage quietly and the presiding General motions me to the podium. We finish the ceremony, and I accept the salutes of all the military personnel in the room. And then, the general intoned the final words…the ones I both desire and dread.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, may I introduce Colonel Joseph Michael Wilson, United States Army, Retired."

~The End~


End file.
